Give and Take
by V. Dariaux
Summary: A stressful evening in the Director's office, with a touch of reminiscing of time spent in Nice. One-shot.


"Jethro," the frustrated protest came out almost as a whine from Jen's pouted lips. She was half-sitting on the front of her desk, Gibbs, in front of her, cell phone out after having just finished a call.

"Jen, I have to go. Crime scene," Gibbs said as though it was explanation enough.

"But I don't want you to go," Jen said smiling with a dark look in her eyes, "In fact, all of me is telling me that I need you to stay." She reached up and cupped his face with her hand, her face changing to show the fragile need for him that she was feeling. Her thumb slid lazily down until it began to caress his lips, already slightly swollen from their kissing. She inhaled slowly. "You smell like French Roast coffee." She said, the darkly seductive smile back.

"Jen-" Gibbs started, like a warning he didn't want her to heed.

"And it makes me think of that attic, in Nice," she started letting her hand slide down from his face and brush over each of his shirt buttons, tugging some with a longing look, as though she wished she could tear them off, " It was the middle of August, and yet even in that heat, you could still drink that French Roast coffee that they sold in the café next door"

Gibbs was beginning to feel the heat Jen described. His head was fogged with too many things he wanted, needed to do.

"Jen-" Gibbs said, knowing far too well where this was going.

"No cigarette after sex, just lots of hot coffee" she said, feigning seriousness. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and tugged so that their faces were close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath on her cheek "Do you want me to keep going, Jethro? I know how you love it when I talk dirty."

"Jen, please-"

"I promise I'll stop torturing you, when you give me a reason to." she finished, somewhat cruelly. "Now, our first night there, oh that was the night you were feeling adventurous and we-"

This time it was Jen who was cut off, by the possessive claim of Gibbs' lips. He took a step forward closing the little distance that was left between their bodies. His right leg rested between her two, as his arms moved to grab her waist, with all the masculinity that his kiss exuded. He pulled back slightly but kept his hands on her.

"I can be a bit late to the crime scene." He said smiling.

This time it was Jen who moved, her arms tangling in his short gray hair, her legs moving so that she could almost wrap them around his hips. Her pencil skirt slowly rode up her thighs, helped along by Jethro's hands, which had moved from her waist and had just reached the top edge of her stocking when her phone chirped.

"Director," Cynthia's voice emanated from the speaker in the phone.

"Cynthia, I thought I told you to hold all my calls" Jenny said, albeit a little out of breath

"You did Director," Cynthia responded, "but SecNav is holding. I assumed you want to take it."

Jen silently cursed her assistant for being so level headed.

"Put him through" Jen said, sighing.

"Jen!" Gibbs started outraged, as she slid away towards her desk chair, picking up the phone with her best attempt at a normal "Director Shepard"

Gibbs stared in disbelief and in frustration. His hormones seemed to redirect themselves. He silently decided that if he was putting work on hold, so was she. He walked around her desk so that he stood directly behind her seated form. His hands took a familiar place, one on each shoulder and he began to slowly massage the stiff muscles.

It was Gibbs' turn to smile wickedly. He knew exactly what got to her, and these massages had always been a bit more of a turn on for her than something the innocent had any right to be. It was something about the strength in his hands, or the calloused fingers, it couldn't help but make her think of what else those fingers were good for.

Jen tried not to sigh audibly as she sat almost listening to the Secretary of the Navy explain the importance of some operation. She hated that he did this to her, but she could deny that he definitely did this to her.

"Yes sir," she stammered out as Gibbs leaned down, continuing his strokes on her shoulders, and adding sporadic kisses to her neck.

He started to whisper into the ear that wasn't anywhere near the Secretary of the Navy, "Yeah, I do remember that first night in Nice, Jen. But if I remember correctly it was you who got a little adventurous. You said you needed to get some air" he paused to kiss her neck again, "said the attack was getting too stuffy for you."

"Right" Jen said into the telephone, hoping she didn't betray how incredibly hot the room felt, and how she wasn't at all thinking about a navy operation.

"You know Jen, I think Nice was the first time you jumped me in public." Gibbs said, as though it was a perfectly normal realization.

"Thank you. Yes, Mr. Secretary, I'll see to it." Jen said, a little too hurriedly for it to be believable.

She spun around faster than Gibbs could process that the call was over. She grabbed Gibbs once more by the collar and pulled him towards her for a kiss that promised far much more.

"You're wrong Jethro." Jen said as she pulled away for a breath, "Paris was the first time I jumped you in public." Gibbs smiled, as they both decided they'd done enough talking for the evening.


End file.
